


i know you want it

by kendrasaunders



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: Blood Drinking, F/M, Flirting, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 16:16:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8851633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kendrasaunders/pseuds/kendrasaunders
Summary: kate has a pastry for breakfast. richie has something else.





	

She comes in first around seven am, only half awake but bearing a pastry. “Hungry?” she asks.

“Don’t eat in bed,” Richie mumbles, shifting under the covers to make room for her. “You’ll make the sheets all crunchy.”

“Didn’t answer my question,” Kate says, holding the pan dolce between her teeth as she smooths the sheets under herself.

“Hey,” Richie says, moving his arm out from under the covers. His fingers brush Kate’s hip, over the fabric of her dog-print pajama bottoms. “Hey. Stop it.”

She tilts her head towards him, wrinkling her nose in question. “Mh?”

“Holding your-“ He gestures to his mouth. “Holding it between your teeth like that,” he explains, with a half-sleepy grin. “It’s too cute. You’re driving me crazy.”

She pulls it from her mouth, chews, swallows. “So?”

“Oh, nice, Katie,” he says. “You here to tease me before I go to bed?”

She swings her legs over the edge of the mattress, giving a soft grin. “Maybe,” she says. “I’m just eating.”

“You said that was for me,” Richie says, gesturing to the pastry.

“No,” Kate says. “I asked you if you were hungry. This is for me.”

“So what do I get?” he asks.

“Really?” she says. She wolfs down another bite, pointedly undainty in her pursuit of sweet breakfast foods.

“Yeah,” Richie says, a small whine in his tone. “You got another one of those?”

She holds up her wrist. “I’m breakfast, dummy.”

“Oh,” Richie says. “Oh. That- I’m tired, okay? You should’ve opened with that.”

She ignores his remark by crossing her ankles and swinging her legs, letting the silence fill the space as she finishes her food. “Is that a yes?” she finally asks.

“Yes what?” Richie says.

“Yes, you’re hungry?” Kate says.

He gives a lazy sort of smirk. “Why don’t you come closer?” he asks. “See what big teeth I have.”

She matches his expression, adds a fond sort of exasperation. She turns onto her knees, crawling the short distance between them before settling against the outline of his body. “How big, Richie?”

“Don’t,” he says.

She leans down, still propped up on her elbows, and kisses him, gentle and covered by the curtain of her hair. “Hm?”

“Nothing,” he replies.

“You made a noise,” she says.

“I didn’t make a noise,” he says, gazing up at her. He keeps his room at a low light, no windows- But she can make out the pull of his eyes.

“You did,” she says. “You made a teeny tiny whimper in the back of your throat.”

“I don’t whimper,” he says.

“Oh but you did.” Kate shifts on top of his body, laying down on his chest, folding her arm across his collarbone. Her hips reach about his navel, given their heights, legs ending somewhere around his knees. “Are you hungry, baby?”

He moves his arms under the blankets, wrapping her in his embrace and a swath of fabric. “You’re warm,” he says.

“Can you feel my heartbeat?” she asks.

His hold is steadfast and certain, strong arms and sturdy chest. “Yes. Always.”

“And?” Kate says.

“And what?” Richie asks.

“Doesn’t it-“ She curls her lip in thought. “I don’t know- Give you cravings, or something?”

“For what?” Richie asks. She can hear the tiny laugh in it, the sort of way he teases her.

“Don’t make me say it,” she says. “Come on. Be romantic.”

He pulls her forward, meeting her lips with his own. He always kisses without second givings. It’s a sort of lazy show of being able to kiss someone because they want you to. Even now, he’s purposeful but not harsh. Willing to yield. His lower lip always finds it’s way mostly sucked between her lips, pulling back to kiss her again in the same spot with the same intensity, over and over.

“Come on,” she says, moving from his kisses. He still moves his mouth against her jaw, softly, hands sliding up her back. She wriggles her wrist up beside her head, giving him a pointed sort of look. “Eat.”

“You sure?” he asks.

She brushes the heel of her palm to his cheek. “I’ve been sure all the other times. So yeah, Richie. I’m sure now.”

 

 

He kisses her skin below where his thumb wraps around her small wrist. Nuzzles at her, open-mouthed motions against where he can feel her pulse.

She feels a shiver in her stomach, dividing and bolting down her thighs. “Richie.”

“Hm?”

“What about-“ And she knows she offered him her wrist, but she’s changed her mind. “What about my neck?”

“Your neck?” he says.

“Yes,” she says, bemused by the question in his voice. “It feels better from my neck. For me.”

“Does it hurt when it’s your wrist?” he asks. His grip, while alright light, grows more anxious, more tender. “Kate-“

“I’m more-“ Her tongue darts against her lower lip. “I’m more in the mood for it to be my neck.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” she says, lightly shifting her knee between his legs. “You’re- In the mood for that, right?”

“I-“ He blinks up at her. “Yeah, Kate. I-“ He moves her arm aside and arches his back, coming up to kiss her in assent. 

She cups his cheek with her free hand, feeling her body curve against his. She feels something like she’s curling up against him, like she’s taking a piece of him within herself and they’ve barely even started. 

She pulls back, lips wet. “Well?”

He grins at her, all white teeth. “Move so I can get this blanket off.”

She rolls onto her side, Richie making a fuss out of kicking off his blankets. He’s always simple in his sleepclothes, more covered than Seth but still just wearing an old white shirt and a pair of boxers.

“That for me?” she asks, as he props his pillow against the headboard.

“My pillow?”

“Your-“ She gestures.

“No, Kate,” Richie says. “I’m just randomly having half an erection.”

“Oh, cool,” Kate says. “Glad we could sort that out.”

He half pouts. Reaches for her wrist. “Come here.”

She moves back onto his lap, not really caring how eager she looks, hitching her knees by his waist and wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Here,” she says, tilting her head to the side. “How’s this?”

He noses at her neck. She keeps expecting to feel his breath on her, warm and familiar. She doesn’t. “Turn around.”

She feels a little jolt at it, the tone he’s taken on, the story they’re putting on together. She thinks it’s kind of sexy, kind of out there, that it’s the idea of ravaging and being ravaged in a much smaller, safer space. There is really very little sexy and very little drama, but when she turns around and presses her back to his chest, the pretend sends a thrill between her legs.

She feels his hands press against her stomach, and whines in the back of her throat. “Richie.”

“I don’t want to surprise you,” he says. 

She shifts her position, keeping him between her legs with just their clothes between them. “Well.” She wriggles again, just to feel him twitch. “I’m ready.”

He moves to brush her hair from her neck. “You sure?”

She’s so wet she could actually die. “Yeah.”

His hand drifts across her stomach, over her navel and lower. “Okay. Okay. It’s- Don’t move, alright?”

“I know, Richie.”

She can always hear it, like the click of pieces coming into place. She thinks, sometimes, that he hates having her see it- That he doesn’t like the way he looks with his fangs out, that he has her turned around so they can keep playing prince and princess.

She doesn’t mind pretending. He’s still Richie, even in her wildest dreams. That’s what she likes most. “It’s okay. I want you to.”

 

She’s watched videos on snakebite care- Of holding them to the camera, a genial voice kindly explaining that sometimes, snakes get nervous or scared and lash out. That a snakebite is a sign of proper ownership, that having these bites is a kind of connection between a human and a reptile.

Richie Gecko is half of a reptile. He is twice her height and older than she is, and while she’s sure he’d like to be left under asun lamp for hours on end, that’s not usually where she finds him.

When Richie bites her, it is a bond, yes. And in a way, there is a certain fear to it, on his end. That he will put his fangs in the wrong place, that he will hurt her. The desire is not to strike, but to consume, and Kate feels there’s something of a notable difference.

That, and the fact that Richie has two legs, of which she is seated upon with him pressing against her backside.

It is nature and it isn’t, she thinks. It hurts, and it doesn’t. There is always the initial sting of it, the human reaction to an intruder and an injury. There’s the wet feeling, her blood and his mouth. His fangs retracting behind his top lip and his tongue pressing against the wound. 

She moans, gently, low and sweet, as he sucks against her neck.

This is never covered in discussions about snakebites. For that, she’s glad. This stops being snake and human and turns into boy meets girl the second he puts his hand down her pants. 

“Richie,” she says, barely above a whisper. She feels him try to shush her against her neck, it vibrates against her but the sound is muted by blood. “Richie,” she repeats.

He shifts his hips against hers, eliciting a small gasp as he angles against her. He practically hums with intent, and Kate feels acutely like there’s a live wire running between her neck and pussy.

She tries to coax his fingers inside her, rocking her hips against the pads of his fingers. He takes one cue and rubs his thumb against her clit, making long, leisurely circles as he draws out each sensation. 

“Mn,” she says, finding it hard to talk with her mouth half-open and her brain oozing out of her neck and between her thighs. “In me.”

He runs his finger along her, teasing her. Never going inside, but stimulating just enough to make her whimper. 

“You’re all wet, Katie,” he says, slipping just the tip of his index finger in. His tongue darts out against her neck, licking excess, taking a taste. “Do you want my cock?”

He adds a second finger, but only to the first knuckle- Enough penetration to stretch her, but not nearly enough to give her what she needs.

“Katie,” he says, his voice low and dark. “Still with me?”

She bucks her hips, trying to work his fingers deeper, trying to impale herself on his hand. His fingers are so long and so clever and all they’re doing now is mocking her, giving her the wonderful sensation of being full but not filling her, not really at all. “Richie.”

He kisses her jaw. His free hand finds the side of her neck, wiping the wound and she can hear him suck on his thumb, and the idea that this is savory to him, that he is making a meal out of this entire thing, is enough to make her dig her heels into the bed. 

“You’re okay?” he asks, softly. “Not feeling light headed? Should I go get you some juice?”

Kate grins to herself, lolling her head back on his shoulder. “Why do you think I ate beforehand.”

“Oh,” he says. “Smart.”

She rolls her hips. “Duh, Richie.”

“Duh, Richie,” he mocks, withdrawing his fingers. He gently slaps the inside of her thigh. “Brat.” 

“You’re awfully hard for me being a brat,” Kate remarks, sweetly. “Something you want to do, Richie?”

He nuzzles her. “Get on your stomach,” he says. 

She lets herself fall forward, finding the mattress coming up to welcome her. It’s a soft and welcome release, and she tilts her head to make sure her bite mark doesn’t press the sheets. It’ll dry in a minute or two, but it still stings just enough to make her clit throb. She doesn’t want to actually make it hurt.

 

He’s sliding her pajamas over her ass and her breath hitches. He takes a moment to stroke her lower back, as gently as he can possibly be. “You’re really pretty, Katie,” he says. “Do you know that?”

She kind of thinks it’s funny, because he’s talking to the back of her head, because his mouth is full of her blood and her thighs are trembling in anticipation for him. She thinks that it’s perfectly Richie, that the way he runs his finger through her slit is kind of sweet and kind of romantic, in its own way. 

“Pretty please?” she asks, turning to look at him over her shoulder.

He gives her a half-smile, fond and kind of lovesick, before pulling her onto his cock.

He’s always slow about it. Timid. Lets her do most of the moving, at first, as she situates around his size. He’s so big, big enough that it makes her eyes flutter every time he enters her, and she raises her hips and shifts her knees forward. He moans, loud enough that she’s almost embarrassed. He leans forward, chest pressing to her back, mouth at her ear, and he’s so deep in her she finds it a little too hard to care about anything else.

“Hi, Katie,” he says. “You feel as good as you taste.”

She whines under him, uselessly undulating as she tries to get him to move.

“What if,” his hand strokes her side. “What if one day, I made you come just from drinking your neck? I’d have you sitting against me, hands behind your back so you can’t touch yourself like you like, and you’d be all whimper-y like you get, and you’d come all wet in your underwear-“

“What about you?” Kate asks, desperate, a moan perched in the back of her throat. “Would you come?”

“Drinking you is just as good as coming, Katie,” he says.

“Oh, God,” she says. “Move. Please move.”

He shifts his hips up, thrusting slowly enough that every noise she makes feels drawn out and heavy and needy. “There we go,” Richie says, still at her ear. “Let it all out for me.”

She fists at the bedsheets, consumed with the feeling of him, of being under him, of the way he envelops her so fully and won’t ever let go. “More,” she pleads.

“More?” he teases. He slides his hands to her hips and rocks her on his cock. “Like this?”

“Faster,” she says.

When he obeys, she starts to scream.

Seth’s going to hear, and the thought of that just kind of makes it that much better.

“Katie,” Richie says. “You’re so tight. Did you know? So pretty and so tight. You’re gonna make me come so hard.”

Her hands grab fiercely to the bed, claw against the sheets like she’s trying to dig into a rut, find something steady, bury herself and be still under the weight of his body and the tightness budding in her pussy.

“It’s okay,” he says, one hand moving to splay against her stomach. He helps her hitch her hips each time he thrusts, keeps her ass up even as she melts beneath him. “Let it out. Let it out, Katie.”

It’s a sort of bucking against his weight, head tossed back release. She’s not sure if she’s stopped screaming since they started or if this is just the last of her voice, but her eyes are closed and her breaths heavy and he slows as he feels her come around him.

“Katie?” he asks, voice tight. “Should I stop?”

The mark on her neck stings as she digs her knees further into the bed. “More,” she demands, bucking back against him. “Right now.”

He kisses where he bit her, and obeys.


End file.
